


the moments you've got left to lose

by saekhwa



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angry Kissing, Dungeons & Dragons Campaign, Kenneth fic, M/M, Major Character Injury, angry cuddling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:20:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24698980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saekhwa/pseuds/saekhwa
Summary: Yevelda and Givo believed, without a doubt, that Memir would be all right. Bele didn't share their confidence.
Relationships: Memir Vrago/Bele
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	the moments you've got left to lose

**Author's Note:**

  * For [scheherezhad](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scheherezhad/gifts).



> A birthday gift for [scheherezhad](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scheherezhad), who helped me fall in love with these two dorks. 
> 
> A million thanks to [moriavis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moriavis) for her encouragement, beta'ing, and putting up with my bitching about writing.

The fiend hissed — screeched — in Infernal, and Memir said something back with the same discordant language before Yevelda inserted herself between Memir and the thing. It whipped around, its tail slicing through the air but its back to Bele, finally, as it turned to face Isabeau. 

Bele squeezed his daggers, inhaled, and rushed forward. He dodged the fiend's swinging bone tail, darting past the shredded remains of one of its wings. There was an exhilarating second of weightlessness and then the jarring, abrupt stop when Bele drove his daggers into the bastard's neck. It spasmed, wheezed, the sharp hook of its blood-covered claws reaching up toward him, but Bele twisted his daggers, jerked one free and slammed it back into the fiend's neck. The dry husk of its skin fluttered up as it pitched to the left, then forward and finally, _finally_ collapsed. 

Bele whooped, grinning, laughing with the relief of surviving another encounter with another of those damned portals. He kicked the fiend's head for good measure and then turned to catch Memir's eye, maybe say something positive about this hero stuff. But he couldn't reconcile what he saw with the snide remark on the tip of his tongue. 

Givo was kneeling next to Memir, hands hovering over a deep gash that ran from Memir's shoulder, across his chest and stomach, to his hip. Memir wasn't moving. The rise and fall of Memir's chest seemed too shallow, and there was so much blood — across Memir's chest and staining the ground. 

The harder that Bele stared, the more Memir's chest seemed to stop moving. It wasn't true, and Bele blinked and blinked again, the pressure in his head increasing. It felt like it was squeezing in from the left and right, narrowing his vision until he let it out in a screech and charged forward. He planted his hands against Yevelda's chest to shove her out of the way. 

She was standing there, useless, but she should've been standing in front of Memir, protecting him. 

"Bele," she said. Her words were soft, pained, but Bele didn't care. 

He shoved her in the chest again, his throat raw as he insisted, "You were supposed to protect him! You were—" The words strangled in his throat as he sidestepped her, about to shout at Memir for not dodging out of the way, but then he saw exactly how bad the wound was, even with Givo healing what he could and helping Memir sit up enough to drink the one potion they had left. 

"You _idiot_!" Bele almost grabbed Memir, almost shook him, but Yevelda had wrapped her arms around him and lifted him up off his feet. 

Bele tried to kick her, his attacks only more vicious as she said, "Don't worry. See? Memir is better already." It was dumb how hopeful she was about everything when Memir had been so close to dying. Again. "It's not a lot," she continued, as if Bele wasn't trying to bite the shit out of her arm. Did she even feel pain? "But Memir will be okay, and then we're going to take him back to town, so he can eat dinner and rest and wash off all the blood."

"Probably in a different order," Givo said, "but the important part is that Memir is going to be okay."

Yevelda and Givo sounded so determined, like they could bend reality to their will and make Memir possibly dying never happen again. Memir murmured Bele's name, but the second Bele looked at him, all he could see was the blood coating his chest, the jagged wound from the fiend's tail or claw still scored deep across Bele's torso. Memir could still bleed out in the hour that it would take them to travel. 

"We'll move fast," Yevelda promised, and only let Bele go so she could help Memir mount his horse. 

"I'm riding with him," Bele said, and immediately slotted himself behind Memir, jerking the reins free of Memir's hands. 

Memir only nodded, slumping farther and farther forward as they raced toward town, but stable in the ring of Bele's arms. Bele grit his teeth the entire journey but furiously thought, _You dumbass_ , like he could jam it telepathically into Memir's mind as he glared at the back of Memir's head. 

~*~

It was too late to buy any more potions when they got back into town, so Bele simply stole one from a pair of travelers at the inn. He shoved open the door to the room they had rented and groaned when he saw that Givo and Yevelda were already in there, hovering like they always did. 

"You should eat and then rest," Givo said to Memir. 

Yevelda nodded in agreement. "Givo's very smart."

"I will," Memir said, almost a sigh, and then looked at Bele. 

Yevelda turned to follow his gaze and smiled, holding out a small bowl for him. "We brought you dinner, too."

Bele almost batted it out of her hands but he didn't want to risk something else stupid happening, like cutting himself on the broken shards. He didn't want to give Memir the opportunity to bitch about the fact that they were both injured. He snatched the bowl from her hands but clutched it close and set it gently on a small table at the other end of the room, so Yevelda wouldn't trip over it. 

He pulled the stolen potion out of his pocket and shoved it toward Memir. "Drink it."

Memir frowned but took the vial and drank it without even asking what it was. 

Bele yanked the vial, stomping his voice, voice going shrill. "It could've been poison!" 

Memir shrugged. "But it wasn't." He glanced down at his chest, touching the edges of his wound as the skin began to knit closer to smooth skin. 

"See?" Yevelda said, and Bele squeezed his eyes shut, fingers wrapped tight around the vial and one of his daggers. "Memir is okay." Her arm brushed Bele's as she reached out and set a hand on Memir's shoulder. "Now it's very important that you rest." She set that same heavy hand on Bele's shoulder. "And you should eat dinner."

"If we need to, we can find a healer in the morning," Givo said. "Until then, we'll leave you two alone." 

Bele turned his head and glared at them both, but they seemed entirely oblivious to how furious he was. He didn't bother to wait for them to walk through the door and close it before he whirled on Memir. "You almost died!" 

Bele stared at Memir, and Memir stared back. Bele could feel his heart hammering in his chest, harder and harder as each quiet second stretched between them. 

Memir raised his hand, and Bele seized it, his jaw aching from the effort of holding himself back. " _You_ ," Bele snarled, shaking Memir's wrist, "almost _died_." Memir's pulse jumped against his fingertips, strong, steady, and then tension flowed from Bele's shoulders like water, his eyes stinging.

They should retire. They had enough money for it. They could find somewhere nice and quiet, and leave the dumb hero stuff to Givo and Yevelda. Bele's breath shuddered out, and he squeezed his eyes shut. It didn't stop the hot splash of tears trailing down his cheeks as he trembled, knowing Memir wasn't going to leave them. Not for something safer. Not for Bele. Memir was so stupidly attached to them. He was so _stupid_. And Bele wasn't strong enough to take the blows for Memir or smart enough to cast a spell that could help him or fast enough to kill the monsters. 

Memir slipped free from Bele's grip, his palm sliding against Bele's arm, up to cup the back of Bele's neck. Bele resisted, but not enough to pull away or stop the slant of Memir's mouth against his. He shuddered, grateful Memir was even breathing, but then he snapped his teeth around Memir's bottom lip, because a kiss wasn't going to make him forget that Memir _almost died_. Memir flinched but didn't pull away, let Bele lean in and pretend this kiss was a chance to shut up all of Memir's excuses, even though he knew Memir wasn't going to say anything. At least Memir was alive. He was breathing and safe. 

"Move over asshole," Bele muttered, but didn't wait for him to agree, shoving Memir's shoulder and pushing at Memir's legs until he had enough room to wedge himself on the bed. "Givo and Yevelda said you should rest, and I'm not leaving until you do." 

He glared, daring Memir to say something, but Memir shifted to kiss him again, to stroke his cheek, to squeeze his shoulder. 

Memir eventually slept, and Bele's anger smoldered into embers. He clung close, cradling Memir tightly, even though he tried to be delicate. He pressed his ear to Memir's chest and breathed, matching the slow, even rise and fall of Memir's chest.


End file.
